After Death
by Madin456
Summary: It's been years and Nico's brain has long since forgotten the memories, but his heart has not forgotten the love. — Valdangelo.


**Summary:** It's been years and Nico's brain has long since forgotten the memories, but his heart has not forgotten the love. — Valdangelo.

 **A/N:** Reverse chronological story. Feel free to read in whichever order you like, from vii-i or i-vii.

* * *

After Death

* * *

 _vii._

He loved someone, once. A long time ago.

This, he knows with as much certainty as his sword is made of Stygian iron.

.

 _vi._

There are gaps in Nico's memory.

The things that are considered basic do not come to him easily. After all this time, he has forgotten: messy brown hair that is somehow still soft to the touch, pointy ears and crinkled eyes and the upward curve of a smile even on the darkest nights. A name to match the face of a son of Hephaestus who seemed to always run on flames—Leo Valdez.

It frustrates him immensely. He knows he should remember these things. He _should_ but he _can't_.

The image of Leo in his mind is fleeting, like a silhouette standing on the other side of a railroad crossing that disappears along with the train passing by. In sight but just out of reach when he tries to focus on it.

What Nico has retained throughout the years, however, are _feelings_. The warmth of another body against his during stargazing nights, shared laughter following the exchange of jokes and teasing remarks, a hand to hold and someone to hug when one of them felt down. Moments simply spent together that he replays for lifetimes, over and over again, now that he is alone.

Moments that remind him his life didn't always used to be this empty; that there was a time when he still viewed the world to be rose-coloured.

.

 _v._

The streets dance to the flashing of lights and the hum of voices on a mid-autumn day. Leaves on trees that are just beginning to fall have taken on crisp red and orange colours, painting the skies with nature's very own bristles. A chilly breeze blows by and something resembling a snowflake gently floats down from the clouds as Nico pulls his jacket tighter around his body with a scowl, almost like he's trying to create a barrier between himself and everything else.

Up ahead of him is a vendor handing out free cotton candy. He's a cheery old man who offers a stick to Nico, friendly smile never wavering from his face, but Nico only looks away and drags his feet along the floor, walking like he has lost all the good things in the world.

He looks at how the stores have lit up with new decorations following the change of seasons, looks at the otherwise beautiful scenery around him, looks at all this and feels: nothing.

Just keeps walking in hopes that a destination will find him eventually.

.

 _iv._

The Cerberus Nico knows is a monstrous, three-headed hound residing in the Underworld. It is intimidating and frightening and guards the gates of souls under the command of his father, Hades.

The Cerberus he remembers looking at is a small, metal figurine that stands on a wooden table in the Hephaestus Cabin. It turned its heads and paced around the surface to the will of its creator and Nico had been in awe of how Leo was able to breathe life to where he himself only saw death.

Scooping up the miniature Cerberus, the older boy had placed it in Nico's hands and said, "For you."

He accepted the gift, brushing one finger gently on the dog's heads, receiving soft purrs in return. When he looked up, he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face and replied, "Thank you. I love it."

And in the pauses between his words, he had meant: _maybe I love you, too._

Now, recalling the memory years later, he thinks: _maybe I never stopped loving you._

 _._

 _iii._

His bedroom walls are white. There is a small dent just to the left of his line of sight where the paint has scrapped off slightly. Other than that, the walls are completely blank, but Nico continues to stare at them with furious intensity, as if he'll be able to discern the answers he needs by simply sitting in silence.

Some days, it's hard to force himself to get up. He's already expended so much energy into crying— _useless_ crying that doesn't do anyone any good—that it feels like everything else requires too much effort. He's not sure he quite remembers how to do any of the thing he used to do.

It's his third day in a row spent in bed. It's not so bad.

He considers staying here forever.

.

 _ii._

Everything in the world blurs at once. Nico blinks rapidly to clear his vision but the tears continue to flow relentlessly. His breath hitches in hiccup rhythms, throat tightened and limbs feeling like they're a hundred times heavier than they actually are. He sets aside his sword to kneel down on the pavement, hunched over a body that has stopped moving, and that's when he feels—it.

A little shimmer of a sensation that resonates with something deep inside him. He's felt it many times in the past, all the way down in his bones, almost like a sigh of relief to reassure him of the passing. The passing of a soul once it has died. Except this time, it's different; more familiar, an aching feeling in his heart that tells him it's real, it's final.

This time, it's Leo, and he _sobs_ in grief because—haven't they taken enough from him already?

He buries his face in the brown-haired boy's chest and begs him to _breathe, please breathe again_.

 _Please come back to me._

When Percy and the others find them, Nico is still on the ground, mourning for a soul that has already moved on.

.

 _i._

It is a well-known fact that demigods do not live long lives.

* * *

 **A/N:** First story I've written in a few months and it's just barely 1k. I think school broke me. Let me know how this turned about, because I honestly have no idea.


End file.
